


Collusion

by Hypatia_66



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Bigotry & Prejudice, Cultural Differences, Double Agents, Gen, Propaganda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 13:51:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14695518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hypatia_66/pseuds/Hypatia_66
Summary: Anti-foreigner propaganda affects even UNCLE. Illya feels the heat.





	Collusion

**Collusion**

He had waited many years for this day to come and, finally, he would get the recompense he had craved for so long.

oo000oo

The upper echelons of UNCLE had long suspected that some sort of propaganda campaign was underway. It appeared to be taking a variety of guises, some trivial, some more serious, but all tending towards undermining US institutions, and especially foreign relations, in the public mind.

It was naturally a topic of discussion in UNCLE headquarters. Someone mentioned the recent news item about the threatened assassination of members of a visiting pop group. “I understand that one of them made a foolish remark comparing themselves to Jesus and saying Christianity would end.” Mr Waverly’s tone was impassive.

“It only became a big news item when it was reported here,” said Illya. “In England, no-one took it seriously; they hardly noticed or cared much.”

“They must have tutted a bit, surely?” said Napoleon.

“A bit, maybe. Religious faith tends to be worn lightly in England, though that’s less true in other parts of Britain,” said Illya. “But it surprises me that people who call themselves devout find it so hard to trust the objects of their devotion to survive a little teasing. That’s all it is, isn’t it?”

“Very likely.” Mr Waverly – very much the tutting Englishman – was impatient and wanted to move on to more substantial matters. “However, it seems that certain parts of the press – particularly those at the extremes – are selectively using news items, including this sort of triviality, to stir up anti-foreign feeling even to the extent of dividing us from our close allies. They claim that American culture is being undermined by foreign imports, like these pop groups and TV programmes from other English-speaking cultures.”

Illya, a foreigner as much as Mr Waverly, laughed outright. “But American culture pervades the whole world. You can find Coca Cola in the smallest village in Africa. What are they so worried about?”

“They are worried, Mr Kuryakin, possibly because the USA does not have a Ministry of Culture like other countries do. American culture, as you say, is all-pervasive – but that may make it vulnerable to attack, or of being put to perverted uses. In my view this is an attempt to undermine America’s values and institutions, and ultimately its social cohesion. It is damaging the country in the eyes of the world.”

This seemed a little stratospheric for UNCLE to engage with, in Napoleon’s opinion. He could see no way in which they could use their manifold, but possibly inappropriate skills to interfere in such nebulous activities. Illya, however, looked thoughtful.

“Do you have any idea who might be behind it?” he asked.

“The soft power that America exerts through its worldwide cultural dominance has made a lot of enemies, Mr Kuryakin. You know better than anyone which _power_ might be involved.”

Illya flushed and dropped his eyes. Napoleon touched his arm, and said, a little indignantly, “You’re not accusing Illya…?”

“Of course not, Mr Solo. Mr Kuryakin is merely well-placed to recognise the possibilities. But don’t forget who else might use that enmity to its own benefit.”

Illya glanced at Napoleon and gave him a reassuring half smile. Apparently oblivious to this, Waverly now said, “I want you both to monitor news reports, visit TV stations, talk to journalists, that kind of thing. See if you can get a handle on it. Shouldn’t be too difficult, and it’ll keep you out of mischief. All right – be off.”

A little miffed at this disparaging dismissal, Napoleon stood up and led the way back to their office with Illya trying not to laugh beside him.

oo000oo

“You know, it seems to me we’re being swamped by British imports and I’m sick of it.”

An ordinary conversation over lunch had somehow turned bitter. Napoleon stirred his coffee and looked at Illya who was staring at their colleague in surprise. He said nothing himself, but Illya responded, “That’s a little overstated, surely?” and he repeated the comments he had made earlier to Waverly. “Have you any idea how widespread American culture has become in the world? A couple of imported British pop groups and a few TV shows don’t even cut it by comparison.”

“You think British culture is so great, why’nt you go back there.”

“That is not an answer to my argument, Nathan. No other culture spreads like this one; it goes everywhere. Its attitudes and beliefs; its business, social and cultural values – even its soda – they’re everywhere. You could say it swamps other cultures, like the British Empire did in _its_ day.”

“American values are the best in the world, and don’t you forget it. Your country isn’t exactly known for its high values.”

“We are not discussing my country.”

“We shouldn’t let communist immigrants into the country either,” snapped Nathan, avoiding Illya’s rational argument by turning to personal attack and getting to his feet to leave.

Illya sat back in his chair and shook his head slightly as Napoleon half rose to challenge him. “He’s become very defensive. Strange. I wonder why,” he said when Nathan had gone.

“He didn’t use to be – at least I hadn’t noticed it before,” said Napoleon.

“That’s what I mean.”

Napoleon made a mental note to check up on the embittered agent.

oo000oo

Illya made a chart and plotted storylines in a variety of newspapers – Democrat, Republican, national, local – and found a surprising number of small, vicious publications containing vitriolic diatribes against foreigners and extolling Great American Values. There was a pattern emerging even in the implicit assumptions and references in the papers that prided themselves on their impartiality.

Mr Waverly called them to his office a few days later. “Before you tell me what you have been finding out, I’d like to know what you make of these missives,” he said, pointing to the piles of paper on the table before them, some typed, some written in a disguised hand. They sat down and picked up some of the sheets. He sat down himself, tamping the tobacco in his pipe, and became absorbed in something else while they read.

Napoleon said, “I’ve had a few things like this in my mail.”

Illya turned to him, his eyebrows raised. Napoleon shrugged, “I threw them away. Thought they were nonsense.”

Illya relaxed, but Waverly said, “Several of our agents have been receiving this kind of thing over the last few weeks. The first ones, like yours Mr Solo, were – for the most part, I am assured – thrown away.”

“But these?” said Illya.

“People apparently began to keep them and talk about them – it was only when Miss Rogers overheard a conversation that troubled her, that they were discovered.”

“They’re quite insidious, aren’t they,” said Illya. “Undermining of trust and fellow feeling.”

Waverly looked up. “Quite so, Mr Kuryakin.” He pushed his chair back and went over to the window and gazed out. “It looks like a campaign – an insidious one, as Mr Kuryakin says. If even UNCLE is affected, it seems we need to start at home. I imagine you noticed Mr Kuryakin’s name mentioned rather frequently.”

Napoleon glanced at Illya who flicked a look at him and then turned away. “Yes, sir. And we’ve already had arguments with…”

“Napoleon, don’t,” said Illya.

Waverly looked at them both. “Save your breath, Mr Solo. I have eyes in my head. I imagine you are looking into it?”

“I am, indeed, sir.”

Waverly now directed his eyebrows at Illya. “But it isn’t just a little local difficulty, clearly. Have you discovered anything that might suggest someone behind all this anti-foreigner sentiment?”

“Whoever they are, they are employing some experienced propagandists,” said Illya. “I don’t think it’s coming from my countrymen – it’s not their style. It could be Thrush – I’m not sure. There are patterns of argument in the reporting and comment columns – some quite subtle, some not so subtle. The pieces are cleverly tendentious. It’s mainly attacks on the various arms of the US government and key individuals, but also on its allies.”

“With what object, do you think?”

Illya thought for a moment, his head bent, then he said, “If you create or play upon disaffection in the population it suggests you’re aiming for public support to take power – perhaps initially by democratic means. After that comes the gradual erosion of the checks and balances of government.”

“Surely beyond the capabilities of Thrush,” said Napoleon.

Illya looked up. “I don’t believe Thrush needs to work very hard. They only need to wait for the results of what might have been set in train quite accidentally. I think part of it is a mischievous or unthinking narrative on the part of a free press. Outrage and disaffection sell papers. Good news generally doesn’t. So, the press feeds on anything it’s given that fits the narrative – just to sell newspapers. They don’t think about the bigger picture.”

He drooped a little in his chair. “Don’t they realise that they have the power to divide a country against itself, divide it from allies, discourage every nation from trusting any alliance? Do they want to start wars? When that happens, you’re liable to get strong, oppressive government and then you _lose_ your free press.”

It was an unusually long speech from Illya. Napoleon said, “It’s what happened in Europe, thirty years ago, after all.”

Waverly, of course, had seen it himself when his two agents were still in their cradles. “I think you may be overly pessimistic, Mr Kuryakin,” he said, “but, of course, any country might welcome a strong-seeming, even fascist style of government if it was thought there was a threat to homeland security.”

“America doesn’t need to feel insecure, does it? Why is it happening here?” said Napoleon.

“But perhaps it does, Mr Solo. An unpopular foreign policy can start divisions in a country; it sets one group against another, one party against another, friends and colleagues against each other – and maybe America against the world…” He cleared his throat. “All right, gentlemen, carry on. Keep looking.”

oo000oo

Napoleon, searching for Illya, found his partner in one of the offices using the microfilm reader to examine back issues of newspapers on film. He had been looking through some files himself and tapped Illya on the shoulder. “You might like to come and look at something I’ve found,” he said.

Illya looked up, “What?”

“Come and see.”

Illya followed him back to their office where Napoleon had laid out some documents. “See here,” he said, “this dates from when you first arrived.”

“Nathan King: considered unsuitable for Section 2; appointed to Section 4,” Illya read.

“Illya Kuryakin: appointed to Section 2; no further training necessary,” said Napoleon, reading from another document.

“And you think he’s borne a grudge all this time? Come on, Napoleon!”

“Look at these, then. They’re his.” Napoleon passed him a sheaf of papers. They were addressed to a number of different newspapers and signed simply “A Patriot”. They were copies of short unpleasant essays about, among other things, the danger to homeland security of foreign sleeper agents in US-based international organisations. Illya looked up from them and stared at him blankly.

“That’s not all,” said Napoleon. “These photographs show him meeting some quite dodgy people in the last few months.”

“We all do that,” Illya commented drily.

“We don’t all get fat brown envelopes handed to us under the table.”

“Who from?”

“He appears – _appears –_ to be colluding with Thrush, I assume to, at the very least, undermine UNCLE – but possibly for purposes of wider significance.”

“If he is, he’s going about it in a very amateurish way – betraying his feelings so publicly and giving us a reason to check on him.”

Napoleon thought about that. “Hmm. Maybe he’s being manipulated without realising it. He’d be useful to Thrush. He’s ideally placed in intelligence and communications for providing copy to people in the gutter press who think the same way.”

“Who’s going to talk to him?”

 “Not you, anyway. You’d better stay out of this.”

oo000oo

Today was the day he would get the final payment he was due for the amount of effort he had put into getting the stories out. He also expected to be offered a senior role in the new, up-and-coming, organisation so that he could resign from UNCLE and rise from his lowly status and become an active field agent. So, when he received the call, King looked anxiously at his watch. But he couldn’t plead a prior engagement in the face of a summons from Mr Waverly. Waverly took precedence inside UNCLE.

It was Napoleon who came to meet him. He was taken to one of the interrogation rooms where the interview was watched by Mr Waverly from behind a two-way mirror with Illya beside him.

Napoleon showed King the photographs without comment and waited for an explanation. King looked at them and swallowed convulsively. He could see his work schedules and reports lying on the table in front of Napoleon, none of which included these meetings. 

“I’m waiting, Mr King… Nathan. Can you tell me what is going on here?”

“It was… it was a private matter, Napoleon. Nothing to do with UNCLE.”

“Nothing you do at any time can _not_ be something to do with UNCLE, you know that. You represent the organisation at all times. Your private affairs must always be subject to scrutiny.”

King snorted. “You’re well paid, you don’t know what it’s like. I was short of money. I… I just did someone a favour.”

“Who?”

“Another law enforcement organisation. A new one – WASP.”

“A Thrush by any other name would smell as foul – to coin a phrase.”

“No! It’s called the Worldwide Association for Surveillance and Protection. They’re offering me more money – to do a job like yours.”

“Very nice, but I think you’ll find it’s Thrush. Why didn’t you go to your head of section if you had financial worries?”

King said, “He’s never been sympathetic to money worries. I didn’t think I’d get anywhere with him.”

“So, what was the favour?”

King was silent, then he raised his eyes. “All right, it _was_ to do with UNCLE. It's the Russian. Your so-clever, well-paid partner – he’s a double agent. He’s sending information back home. I knew he was up to something. I gave them information in exchange for evidence about him to show you all.”

Behind the two-way mirror, Illya stiffened. Mr Waverly shook his head and put a finger to his lips. Napoleon also stiffened. “Tell me more,” he said, coolly.

“They said he had obtained US intelligence material – he was interviewing people who know stuff, so it must have been.”

“And you decided not to alert senior officers in UNCLE, but took it upon yourself to investigate?”

“Everyone knows he’s Waverly’s golden boy.” This time, Waverly stiffened. “It wouldn’t have got anywhere – I had to find the evidence myself to prove what he was up to.”

“And did you?”

“Enough.”

Napoleon sat back and smiled the smile of the tiger. King flinched. “I should have known – he’s your partner, you’ll protect him, too.”

“He doesn’t need my protection. I want to see what you were prepared to sell so readily in the face of the years of loyal service my partner has given to this organisation – not to mention the scars he has acquired.” Napoleon’s voice changed and he leaned forward and snapped, “Loyalty. Service. Integrity. Unlike you, it seems!”

King went white and began to stammer but Napoleon raised his hand to stop him. “You tried to say it had nothing to do with UNCLE.” he said contemptuously. “Liars aren’t welcome in UNCLE, certainly. What information did you sell?”

“Nothing much… just the results of a mission.”

“Which mission?”

“One that Kuryakin carried out on his own – stuff he’d found out about Thrush. WASP said it would help them get started…” He stopped.

“Ah. And what did you get in return?”

“Where he’d been, who he’d been talking to, what they’d said to him about passing secrets to unfriendly powers.”

“And?”

“I was going to give it to Waverly along with my resignation.”

“You can still do that, Nathan,” and Napoleon stood up and left him sitting at the table. King was unbowed. He knew no-one would believe what he said about that smug little Red. So clever, so good at pretending to be the perfect enforcement agent. Commie Kuryakin… all commies were a threat. He’d hand over the evidence and see what they said then.

Napoleon joined Waverly and Illya in the adjoining room. “Mr Waverly?” he said.

“I think we’ve heard enough. He’ll have to be detrained, of course, then we’ll let him go. Mr Solo, you can deal with that if you please.”

“Sir.” Napoleon returned to the interrogation room to escort King to the detraining department.

They watched them go then Waverly turned to Illya. “Mr Kuryakin, I’m afraid I’ll have to follow up his accusations – you understand that, I’m sure.”

“Of course, sir.”

“I’ll do it myself. All your reports are on file I think?”

“Yes, sir. I think he may have been talking about a mission I carried out when Napoleon was in Medical – about six months ago. The one where I …”

“I’ll find it, Mr Kuryakin. In the meantime, I’m thinking of closing the present matter. Perhaps you’d like to pursue some other research in the lab in the meanwhile.”

oo000oo

When Napoleon returned he was surprised to find the office empty. He looked to see if his partner was still looking at newspapers on microfilm, tried the commissary, asked reception if he’d left and drew a blank everywhere. Only then did he think of the labs.

Illya was sitting at his bench examining a very small object under the microscope. He jumped when Napoleon touched his shoulder.

“You’re getting good at creeping up on people,” he complained.

“Why are you here?”

“Mr Waverly’s orders. He’s investigating King’s accusations against me.”

“What! You’re not serious?”

“He has to, Napoleon. There’s nothing to find, don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried. You’re not a liar or a traitor. But why can’t _he_ trust you?”

“Because he’s head of the organisation. He takes nothing for granted. Checking for the truth is important. I wish everyone did it.”

Napoleon sighed and sat down to watch as his partner returned to the tiny tracking device he was developing for UNCLE field operations.

oo000oo

The expected surge of public feeling for the removal of the calming checks on government crack-downs hadn’t materialised. Thrush Central watched with resignation as the attacks on American institutions of government gradually diminished and other narratives and obsessions surfaced to take their place. It seemed that their time hadn’t come, although the attacks never completely died away. But their time _would_ come… Thrush could wait. There was plenty of other damage they could do.

**ooo0000ooo**

**Author's Note:**

> LJ Once Upon a Time challenge. Theme: revenge.
> 
> It was John Lennon who compared the popularity of the Beatles with Jesus Christ and remarked that Christianity would come to an end before rock music. The British were largely indifferent but it caused great offence when reported in the US.


End file.
